Complicated
by tsukiyukikage
Summary: The Justice League has realized that The Light is a more serious threat than they'd thought. Flashy talents and brute strength simply aren't the right tools for dealing with the problem they present. That's why they called in for help. RoyOC. Starts near Auld Acquaintance and continues during the 5 years; canon compatible. Spoilers for Usual Suspects and Auld Acquaintance.
1. Chapter 1

_Nothing to really say about this one either. Just that the entire story's been in the works for several months and that I fought the urge but couldn't resist.  
_

_Enjoy!  
_

* * *

_Mount Justice_

_December 31, 01:47 EST_

Red Tornado watched as the transport tube opened, the white light illuminating the dark grey meeting room.

"Recognized. Batman-zero-two." As promised, the man walked through coolly, a look of consternation evident behind the mask.

"Batman. What is wrong?" Red Tornado processed his collected data. No one had ever come this late, out of the blue.

He received no answer. Instead, Batman handed him a small silver disc. "The team has a mission. They start on the weekend."

The dark man turned and left without another word, leaving the robot in technological confusion.

* * *

_Mount Justice_

_January 7, 2011 08:16 EST_

Kaldur'ahm sighed heavily as he considered the day ahead of him: They had another mission. The first of the new year.

The first without Roy.

He considered the days behind him. December 30. They had been ambushed, three members had revealed deep secrets that had shocked, but not changed the opinions of, their recipients. Five new heroes had been inducted into the Justice League. Doctor Fate. Plastic Man. Atom Man. Icon.

And Red Arrow.

The team had been so proud, so proud that one of them, even one who had only grudgingly come to accept that he was a part of the team, even one who had only grudgingly come to accept those whom he had suspected for so long.

One who had come to accept the fact that there was no mole on the team.

December 31.

They found out that there was, in fact, a mole. No one had suspected that it was him though, that it was the one who had tried so long, so hard, so actively to find the mole, the danger to them all.

That it was Red Arrow himself.

That was a week ago.

To Kaldur, it felt so much longer.

January 1.

The team decided that they needed to find him, to bring him back, to tell him that they would listen to him. That they would be hurt, but that they would still hear him out.

Still care for him. He was one of them.

Them. The team was still itself, but it seemed fractured in a way. He couldn't figure out how—Red Arrow hadn't exactly been warm to the all of the members, nor had he associated with them that much. He had barely gone on the group missions.

But he was still part of the team.

They learned the truth that Friday, they were confronted by Batman, Black Canary, and Red Tornado, Robin for once acting as their spokesman.

They decided, independently, to search for him.

They would find him. Bring him back, by almost any means necessary.

The mission failed. He had disappeared from them.

Because it wasn't Roy that they had brought back. It was someone else entirely. Someone they thought they knew.

But he was still their friend.

The entire week had been difficult. Rocket was trying to figure everything out but no one felt much like explaining.

There were no other missions that week.

An alarm went off behind him. He turned around to read the time. _8:30 AM_. Kaldur thought about the mission they were starting later that day. He'd received notice of it Wednesday; Batman hadn't given him any other information except that it would be of extended length and that everything was being arranged in the interim.

Kaldur'ahm stood, suppressing a heavy sigh.

He was the leader, if only temporarily.

He had to be strong for his team.

He didn't know how to do it, but he would try.

* * *

_Mount Justice_

_08:30 EST_

The teens that didn't currently reside at the Hall of Justice—Artemis, Wally, Robin, and Rocket—arrived by 8:50 for the project briefing.

This would be their first mission without Red Arrow. They wished it was for a happier reason.

Kaldur scanned his team, carefully observing their features.

Sad.

Excited.

Conflicted.

"Everyone." They looked towards where his soft voice originated from by the projector. "I know...that we are sad, but we must carry on. We _will_ find him. We _will_ get to the bottom of this. I do not think that it will be long until we find him."

Silence met him as his peers turned away.

"So what you're saying is that we just have to hope." No one expected the speaker to be Artemis.

Kaldur smiled forlornly. "Yes. That is exactly what I mean."

Promptly at nine, the tube opened bathing the room in a stark white light, admitting Batman followed by Black Canary.

"Good. You're all here."

They followed their elders to the projector, screen already loading. A map and two images flashed before them, one of Speedy and one of Red Arrow—the original Roy and the Clone—appeared.

Batman's deep voice rose. "We're taking the team off of all other missions until further notice. For now, there will be regular reconnaissance missions. The targets will be focused on known affiliates and allies of the Light and the League of Shadows."

A small rumble of discontent. Some shouts from the louder members.

"Now hold on, guys," Black Canary interjected. "It's not what you think. We are _not_ sending you straight into battle. These missions will be covert—mostly focused on research."

Kaldur remained silent, as did the others.

No one wanted to ask the main question that haunted them.

Batman gazed at each teenager. "Any questions?"

Wally broke the silence. "Yeah. So, how exactly are we supposed to do these missions? I mean, Robin's really the only one qualified to hack. The rest of us aren't really covert, y'know?"

"We'll show you later. Until then, you're on break."

* * *

_Citron, CA_

_9:16 PST_

Charlotte McAllister had just written the last letter of her history test when the teacher called her. Glancing up, she saw the teacher gesturing frantically for her to step outside. As she covered her test, preparing to check her answers once she returned, she was even more surprised when he told her to take her stuff.

So she did, trying to ignore her classmates' curious eyes.

Test in hand, she joined her teacher outside who had managed to find someone to make sure his remaining students didn't cheat.

As she handed him her test, she managed to utter out a small, "Um...Mr. Warburton?"

His voice was strained, obviously panicking as he accepted the papers. "What, Charlotte?" He was distracted by something.

"What's going on?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

The rest of the walk to the school's office went with no speech between them.

Minutes later, they arrived at the principal's office, or what she assumed to be it. Her teachers were there, either sitting or standing and each nervously glancing around.

It took Charlotte a while to realize that there was a man there that shouldn't even be near here.

He had a large frame and looked as if he was uncomfortable in the room. Whether it was the small chair or the formal suit, Charlotte didn't know. Still, even with the apparent unease, he held an amiable aura.

The principal smiled, almost unsure, as her teacher closed the office door behind him. "Miss McAllister. Pleased that you could join us today. Sit."

Numbly, Charlotte did as she was told, not noticing that the only seat available was next to the man and instead focused on why she was there. _Is he a social worker? From the police? Wait. Maybe he's a psychiatrist. He seems like lying is too easy for him._

There was a beat of silence after she settled in.

The principal cleared his throat. "Miss McAllister, I'd like to say that your record has been very...impressive at our school." _Liar._ "So impressive, in fact, that your teachers and I have been contacted by Mr. Bruce Wayne here," he gestured erratically towards the man who towered over her; she glanced up towards him, tense, to see him smile warmly and see that it fell just short of reaching his eyes, "has extended an offer of a scholarship to Gotham Academy."

"I'm sorry, what?" She'd heard of Bruce Wayne—owner of Wayne Corp, sinfully rich, saintly philanthropist—but she'd never seen him before as a living person. But she did know that he only gave that kind of cash to causes he thought were truly worthy.

The man himself commanded attention, simply by turning back to her. "It's basically an art and a sports scholarship. Gotham Academy is mostly known for its math and science programs but it's lacking sorely in the fine arts and actual athleticism. I think that the academy needs someone like you there to liven it up." He had a deep voice that was still soft but it still retained a sharpness that meant he was not a man to be trifled with.

Eyes slightly narrowed, Charlotte looked directly at Wayne. "So...what you're asking me is if I'm willing to go to a different school halfway across the country just to improve a school's diversity, right?"

The school officials were visibly stricken by her bluntness.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but she saw it, saw his eyes harden and narrow. She had a feeling Bruce Wayne was dangerous in all the worst ways.

"Not exactly. That's what the school will be getting from you. You'll get much more—membership to museums and galleries, preferential housing in the dorms, and—"

"Sorry. I'm not interested." Standing, she grabbed her backpack and satchel and headed towards the door. "Thanks for the offer, though, Mr. Wayne. It's just not for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to French."

She swept herself out of the door, her departure accompanied by the sounding of the school bell and a brief flash of dark brown hair.

Charlotte McAllister had just refused an offer by none other than Bruce Wayne whom others, those who held similar public lives, knew as Batman.

Someone who was not to be refused.

* * *

_The Watchtower_

_12:47 EST_

"Recognized. Batman. Zero-Five."

Bruce Wayne, now donning the dark horned cowl and cape, now Batman, entered the lobby of the Watchtower, walking hurriedly towards the discussion room. He ignored the swirling blue below him, as well as the dark abyss surrounding both him and it, long since used to the view and no longer amazed.

Opening the heavy double doors, he was met with an apparently-interrupted session of chatter between a few of his teammates. Black Canary and Green Arrow sat together near Flash and Superman, Martian Manhunter standing silently close behind them. Icon and Aquaman had yet to appear.

The assembled members shifted focus immediately, any traces of joviality eliminated. As Batman took his seat on one side of the table, opposite Superman, Flash spoke. "Any luck?"

"Nothing even resembling it."

The heroes were surprised; Superman had told them that very few civilians could resist his persuasive skills. And yet, a seventeen-year-old girl had.

A few quiet chuckles, laden with darkness, escaped. "What happened?" Green Arrow asked.

The Caped Crusader was silent for a few moments, eyes narrowed behind the cowl as he analyzed the events in California.

"I told her about the scholarship that was set up for her. She turned it down, but she was smart about it."

"Got a glimpse of that welcoming personality of yours, hunh?" Batman's eyes narrowed dangerously at the flamboyantly costumed Flash who visibly shrunk.

J'onn's eerily lyrical voice sounded. "So what is to be done from this point?"

No one seemed to have an idea.

Except for the person who they least expected one to come from.

"Why don't Dinah and I pay her a visit? You said she's in California, right?"

"What about transportation?" inquired Flash.

"We'll say that we're on vacation. It'll give us enough time and get the media off our backs for a bit."

Seemingly satisfied, they silently broke away, headed to their selected destinations.

Before Green Arrow and Black Canary left, Batman made sure to give them one last word. "Nothing flamboyant. Southern California isn't really known for being an area villains are attracted to. Not the kind you're associated with, anyway."

* * *

_Citron, CA_

_Jan 8, 2011 21:53 PST_

Charlotte was alone in the streets, many in the neighborhood already settled into their beds or otherwise occupied. The odd small mammal stilled in her momentary presence then scurried away from the perceived threat.

She was knew someone was following her—several someones, actually—but she was hoping that it was just a nighttime drunk. She wasn't sure if she could handle anything else at this point. _Just a little further..._, she thought to herself, trying to keep a steady pace to keep her pursuers from knowing that she was aware of their presence.

She had seen neither hide nor tail of them, but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was there. When she got that feeling, more often than not, it was for good reason.

Rounding the dark corner, the laundromat came into view, it's lights still bright and welcoming. Charlotte let a small smile escape to her lips, then glanced briefly at her watch. _9:56. Cutting it close, but I should be able to make it._

In the brief moment it took her to read her watch, the light of the laundromat disappeared from in front of her and was replaced by the shadowy brick wall of an alley.

Cursing quietly, Charlotte struggled to free herself from the grip of her assailant but was defeated when he swiftly moved his arms to wrap around her torso, trapping her arms and lifting her backwards off the ground.

She was trapped.

She could die.

Neither of those facts registered with her as immediately as the fact that she would have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

She realized that she couldn't scream; one of his hands was placed firmly against her mouth. Giving in, she stopped struggling when she realized that whoever it was, he was telling to calm down.

He waited a moment before he allowed her to stand but she remained in the tight trap of his arms.

He was strong. She knew she had no hope of escape.

A deep voice came from above her head, making her realize just how steeply the odds were stacked against her. "Now, are you going to cooperate?"

Nodding slowly, Charlotte accepted the incoming events and closed her eyes. To her surprise, his arms left her torso but he remained close, a step or two away and ready to catch her if she should run.

"Charlotte McAllister, right?" The question came from one of her other pursuers, unseen in the alley.

Tensely, she scanned the alleyway, retorting, "Who wants to know?"

Chuckling, the man revealed himself. He was decked from head to toe in a uniformly light green tunic with a deep hood, blond hair peeking from underneath, with darker tights. A quiver of arrows and a large bow rested across his back while a black domino mask concealed his eyes, as did one for his accomplice.

She briefly scanned the partner. The mask and the instruments were the only similarities between him—he was shorter, thinner, and had darker hair; she couldn't discern what the exact color was in the dim light. He wore a one-piece tracksuit, the deep burgundy chest nearly indistinguishable from the black extremities.

The man in green offered his hand to her, what could be seen of his face no longer joking. "Green Arrow. The fellow next to you is my partner, Red Arrow." It might have been her imagination, but she thought she saw this "Red Arrow" stiffen a bit at his introduction.

"Never heard of either of you."

Green Arrow's eyes widened behind the mask then crinkled jovially. "Really? We're all over the news up north. This is such a relief."

"I don't really focus on what happens up north. Half a state away and all that." Charlotte decided to call them on their game; she had places to be and didn't necessarily feel like messing around. "Cut the crap. What do you want?"

Again, his face became stony, as did his partner's. "I understand you were contacted about a scholarship to Gotham Academy yesterday by an associate of my friend's."

"Yeah, and I turned him down. End of story. Now, if you two fine gentlemen will excuse me, I have to be somewhere else." She turned towards the end of the alleyway, striding evenly until a lean arm blocked her path. Tracing it to its owner, she and Red Arrow made eye contact.

"It's not that simple." The way he said it made it seem as if it both was and wasn't.

Sighing, Charlotte muttered quietly to herself. "It never is, is it?" Returning to Green's position in the shadows, she crossed her arms over the straps of her bags and looked up at him. "I'll hear you out."

"Red's right." He paused as if to consider how to phrase whatever he wanted to tell her. "Have you heard of the Justice League?" No response given, he continued. "See, Red, my friend and I are part of this large group of heroes from different areas of the country, joined together with the goal of fighting crime."

"Unh huh."

"Until recently, actually, Red Arrow here was a member of our...junior squad, so to speak. They're former sidekicks of a few of ours and they mostly do covert missions. We're contacting you because we think that you could be of help to them. They've got a string of reconnaissance missions coming up and they need to be able to, for lack of a better phrasing, be able to get in and out of areas where they're not supposed to be after an extended period of time."

They stared at her as she absorbed the rush of information. "So you thought to ask me out of literally hundreds of thousands?"

"Actually, my friend did. He said you had the intellect and athleticism along with the skills we need."

She was quiet for a brief moment. Slowly, Charlotte reached inside one of the bags and pulled out a ripped piece of paper and a pen. After writing something down, she handed it to Red.

"That's the address of the nearest mental health clinic over here. They're open all hours and as soon as you feel better, they'll let you check yourselves out."

Ducking underneath the younger man's arm, she heard the elder yell out, "We're not crazy!"

"I know! There's a difference between crazy and insane. If you go there, they'll tell you." She spared no backwards glance as she exited the mouth of the alley. As a reflex, she glanced towards the laundromat.

The lights were still on.

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I guess._ Charlotte entered the laundromat; a blonde Caucasian woman leaned over the counter, chatting with Mr. Richards, the owner.

"Chari, I thought you'd decided not to come tonight!"

"Sorry about that. I got held up in the alleys," she stated nonchalantly as she ducked under the counter and set her bags down.

The woman peeked over at where she was crouched. "Oh no. I hope you're alright."

Charlotte smirked. "I'm fine, just a couple of guys who needed to check out the clinic."

Mr. Richards sighed. "Chari, you've got to be more careful."

"I am, Mr. Richards. Anyways, I thought you closed at 10, no exceptions."

"I'm afraid that's my fault. I just got home and I needed something for a party tomorrow and, wouldn't you know it? My washing machine broke down on me. So I had to find a laundromat and not many are open this late. Thankfully, I managed to get here right before Mr. Richards here shut down for the night."

"No problem, miss. People gotta look their best on Sunday. Especially ladies." And there was that "charm" he claimed he was popular for.

A dryer buzzer went off. The woman and Mr. Richards exchanged a few more words as she collected her items. A few minutes later, she was gone, once again thanking him for holding the store open for a while longer.

Mr. Richards collected his wallet and keys before checking on Charlotte who was still under the counter. She was nestled in a nest of soft bedclothes, a pillow under her head.

"You gonna be okay tonight?"

"Of course. Thanks again for this."

"It's no problem. G'night, Chari." He shut out the lights and locked the door, pulling the security grate over it.

Charlotte was left in the silence of the night. And she was fine with it.

Black Canary joined her husband and his partner in the alleyway after departing from the building. Red Arrow stood apart from his former mentor, leaning on a wall. "I hear there's a mental health clinic near here. Mind giving me the address?"

Green Arrow smiled shallowly at her. "Sure, you can come with us."

"All jokes aside, I take it that you weren't successful."

"You'd be right."

She sighed. This was going to be more troublesome than they'd foreseen. "Any idea of where to go from here?"

Red Arrow pushed off the wall and looked at them dead-on. "We take her to the Watchtower."

The adults looked at each other, shocked by the suggestion. Green Arrow hesitantly added, "She did seem reluctant to believe me."

"I think recommending that you go to a clinic is more than reluctant."

"So we're all in agreement?"

They nodded.

* * *

_So I was just about to upload this and I was trying to figure out how this chapter is so long! Second chapter is already finished and will be uploaded soon. The third chapter is maybe...halfway done? So far, they're all longer than 1,500 words so I apologize for the wait._

_Thanks for reading! Please review to let me know what you think!  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_This chapter's a little bit shorter; I decided that it was best to split what I had originally and put the other two-thirds in their own chapter because otherwise, you'd've gotten a chapter about...6000 words? long. I like long chapters, but I don't usually like them that long so...this is what you get.  
_

_Many thanks to Amelie Nockturne and Flia Tia for betaing this for me!  
_

* * *

_Citron, CA_

_Jan 14, 17:23 PST_

Charlotte gathered her bags as the bus rolled to a stop next to the sheltered area. It'd been a long week and she was ready to go to sleep sooner rather than later, having an early meeting the next morning. As she exited the bus, she didn't bother to look at the crowd waiting to board.

From the bus stop, it was another half hour of walking to the city park; Charlotte considered the effort worth the freedom and relaxation it granted her. _I'm going to have to head inside soon. It's getting cold ._

She slowly made her way to the large oak tree near the center of the park, standing proudly on the hill there. The leaves, for the most part, still remained, holding onto a summer that had long ago ended by anyone else's standards.

Slightly smiling, Charlotte passed the tree and headed towards the small, and thankfully clean, building that housed the bathrooms.

The room itself was warm but not unpleasantly so as she stepped inside. She took her bags with her into the stall.

Finished, she stepped to the sink to wash her hands. She noticed a shadow out of the very corner of her eye that contrasted starkly against the light beige tiles.

She turned towards it slightly, curious as to what it was, and jumped when the form of a costumed man appeared. He was the one that had pulled her into the alleyway last week and now he was just lounging on the counter, his relaxed stance a great contrast to his hard-set face.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Charlotte couldn't help but think that the look he gave her, hidden behind that mask, was insulting in one of the worst ways.

"Looking for you."

"No shit. Besides the obvious issue here, why are you in the girls' room?"

Instead of answering, he—_what's his name?—_slid off the counter and slowly approached her as he spoke. "We need to talk."

Hands still wet, she retreated from him just as slowly, ready to run out the door. "Trust me, we don't."

"Look, at least hear me—us—out. Apparently, you're needed. Badly."

Something about the way he said it, and something about the way his face fell, as if he was tired, kept her from sprinting out the door and getting as far away as she possibly could.

A long silence stretched between them as they stared at each other.

She let out a heavy breath. Holding up one hand, she raised her index finger. "One. One time only." She turned her back to him to pick up her bags and continued forcefully. "I'll play your game once. You and your friend have _one_ chance to convince me. The moment either of you tries something funny, _I swear to god_ you will both regret it."

She stood and turned back to him when no answer came. "And after, you, both of you, leave me alone."

His solemn reply was accompanied by a terse nod. "That's all we're asking for."

Charlotte followed him out of the bathroom towards the wooded area of the park. She watched as he pulled his equipment from a tree's large knot. Suddenly, his name popped into her head.

_Red Arrow_.

Something told her she should have ran.

* * *

_The Watchtower_

_Jan 14, 17:41 PST_

Red, as she'd taken to calling him, had led her out of the park to another alley about fifteen minutes away from the park. Well, more like ten minutes in addition to the five she had taken to secure a safe cache for her items when he'd told her to leave her things behind.

He'd led her to a dusty and dilapidated phone booth, long isolated from the main world. She'd been just about to bolt when he held the folding door aside and gestured for her to enter. He followed behind her closely.

What awaited her in the booth wasn't a phone. Instead, she was met with a bright light and a slight fuzziness. Afterward, a dull grey room, not dissimilar from a lobby.

A computerized voice echoed as Charlotte bent over clutching her stomach.. "Recognized: Charlotte Richards-A-Zero-Four. Red Arrow-Two-One."

True to its word, he stepped forward. "You get used to that eventually." He waited until she recovered before urging her to continue forward. As the pair came deeper into the room, Red Arrow's partner—_Green Arrow, I think—_approached them cautiously, the woman that had been in the laundromat with him; she was dressed in an odd get-up—a black leotard with a blue cropped jacket, grey stockings, and black boots. Both smiled uneasily.

The woman spoke up, softly, as if not wanting to scare her. "Hi. Thank you for coming."

"Don't say that yet. I might puke and go back."

She had the nerve to laugh. Charlotte was serious: her stomach was still moving uncomfortably.

"Hopefully, you'll get used to it." It seemed like she was speaking of more than the adaptive qualities of the human body. "I'm Black Canary. You've met Green Arrow and Red Arrow here before. Nice to meet you, Charlotte." She offered a hand, hidden in fingerless leather gloves that reached past her wrist, to her warmly.

Charlotte didn't react.

Green Arrow, standing behind her, coughed. Black Canary, looking more than a little uneasy, stepped backward slightly. "Well, I think they're ready for us. Are you ready, Charlotte?"

Shrugging, she replied, "Why not. I've gotten this far." She felt her hands twitch to grasp the strap no longer on her chest.

The group, Black Canary leading and the Arrows flanking Charlotte on either side, proceeded to the far wall. As they neared it, it slid open, revealing a larger, more open hallway with pillars. On either side, an empty black expanse waited beyond the boundaries of an external set, trees and other areas occupying the space between. It was only when she saw a large blue object with white swirls below on her left that Charlotte realized she was in space.

As she stumbled from the realization, Red Arrow caught her by her elbow and quickly helped her right herself.

Green Arrow leaned over and whispered into her ear, a wide grin on his face. "Still think we need to visit the clinic?"

Eyes wide, Charlotte turned to him as they continued forward. "No. I think you need to visit an asylum. You'd have to be _insane_ to even attempt this."

It didn't escape her notice that Black Canary let out a choked, airy sound.

They eventually came to a large set of double doors, again grey, with a dull bronze plaque centered on them. Before she could read the message, they opened, revealing a conference room. Several adults were already seated. Most of the seats were empty, but for some reason, the group walked towards the far side of the table. They moved quickly, placing her between Black Canary and Red Arrow.

Without hesitation, the meeting started.

A large-bodied man decked out in a dark monochromatic suit and a black cowl—a bat insignia on his chest—seated at the pointed head of the table and turned to face her. "On behalf of the members of the Justice League present, I would like to thank you for coming here." He paused, giving her the opportunity to reply.

Charlotte continued to stare at him, trying to ignore the weight of the gazes of the other..._heroes_.

"Seven months ago, our partners formed a squad assigned to covert missions. They've uncovered a large group of villains aligned together and conducting criminal actions on a large scale. Recent events have proved that the threat they present is real and is larger than we can handle alone."

It shouldn't have been possible, but the air about them became almost impossibly heavier.

She leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. It was an odd tan color. Wooden. Heavy. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You have the skills the team needs for the missions it will be deployed on soon."

"So out of literally hundreds of thousands of people, you chose me." She couldn't believe what she was getting herself into.

Black Canary's arm twitched slightly as if she was about to touch her. "No one else was as smart as you."

A heavy breath escaped Charlotte. This was too much.

"This group...how big of a 'threat' are they?"

"They've infiltrated and currently command several large corporations across the nation, as well as funded and actively participated in acts of terrorism and illegal experiments on several continents. They've shown that they're willing to kill and utilize any and all means to achieve their goals."

Why was she considering it seriously?

Charlotte knew the answer almost immediately after she asked herself.

She didn't know.

"I'm getting the message that they're pretty major."

No one answered.

Another heavy sigh. Charlotte looked up, glancing briefly into each of their eyes, resting on the man before returning to the table.

"I'll do it. On my terms though."

He nodded; neither of them acknowledged the collective relief in the room. "We've got something to discuss then."

* * *

_Okay...I lied. That was _a lot _shorter than I thought it was._

_In any case, the third chapter is almost done and I should have it posted (if all goes well) withing the next week or two.  
_

_Please review!  
_


End file.
